


big green tractor

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Is this your first time catching chickens?” Mingyu asks gleefully from somewhere off to the side, as Wonwoo desperately races the hysterical bird around the barn.





	big green tractor

**Author's Note:**

> you know that chicken scene from hannah montana the movie well this is it actually this whole thing is just hannah montana the movie ALSO i'm just emptying out my gdocs wip folder so please have mercy. this was created in a moment of weakness during finals season so that's absolutely why it is the way it is
> 
> edit: this is absolutely annmarie's fault hence why it's so extremely out of pocket

“Is this your first time catching chickens?” Mingyu asks gleefully from somewhere off to the side, as Wonwoo desperately races the hysterical bird around the barn.

 

He isn’t actually sure if chickens can actually _be_ hysterical, but that’s a question for another day.

 

The point is, he’d arrived at this farm in the middle of fuck-all _nowhere_ not 3 hours ago, and he’s already gotten himself roped into this horrendous mess. Somewhere between wanting to hole himself up in his room and admitting that he was starving, Mingyu had gotten the bright idea to make Wonwoo omelettes with the farm-grown eggs. The only catch was that he’d have to do the ‘farm-grown’ bit by himself. He’s going to be picking chicken feathers out of his suit jacket for weeks, he thinks grumpily. This isn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when Seungcheol told him his next assignment was to be a piece about the nature of rural life, what’s it’s like to live detached from the suffocating severity of cities.

 

“People will do anything to escape,” Seungcheol had told him, with a gleam in his eye. “They work all day and all night to be somewhere great, only to start desperately seeking an exit when they get there.” He’d said this last line whilst looking at Wonwoo knowingly, but he doesn’t flinch. Yes, there was a time when Wonwoo would’ve jumped at the chance to leave the city behind, but times have changed. He’s tied to it now, achieved a symbiosis with the living, breathing hum of the city as it inhales and exhales with all of its tiny moving parts. Of course, this is if you can call sleeplessness and an ever-growing exhaustion symbiosis. That’s a problem for another day, though. Things like that don’t matter, and Wonwoo has learnt to pay them no mind.

 

Despite being a city boy, born and bred, Wonwoo had always had a particular admiration for the country. He imagines it requires a lot of discipline to do nothing but wheelbarrow hay around all day whilst milking cows and churning butter.  

 

Still, he’d promised Seungcheol a good piece. At worst, he’d waste his week mucking about, chewing hay, saying yeehaw, and doing everything he could to immerse his brain in the task of shovelling piles of horse dung. At best, he’d make friends with a nice old lady who’d make him tea and let him borrow books from her very extensive library. (He knows that second one seems unlikely, but a man can dream.)

 

Instead, however, he’d been greeted at the door by Kim Mingyu, an absolutely enormous boy who had no idea how much weight he carried. In his excitement to greet Wonwoo, he’d knocked over half of the furniture on his porch, and then almost flattened Wonwoo by trying to hug him in over-enthusiastic greeting. Wonwoo had politely (and somewhat fearfully) declined, but Mingyu was already preoccupied with the mess his porch had become.

 

The overgrown boy in question (yes, boy, because Mingyu looks to be about 5 in those overalls) lets out another bark of laughter as Wonwoo nearly slips on the yolk of a broken egg, letting a terrified yelp escape his mouth. The chicken squawks, darting narrowly out of his grasp.

 

“Do you want to change your shoes? Those aren’t...optimal for chicken catching,” Mingyu offers, eyeing Wonwoo’s dress shoes in poorly-disguised disgust. Something ugly and defensive stirs in Wonwoo’s heart at this reaction, something that feels a lot like arrogance and annoyance at the fact that a simple farmer thought he had the right to judge Wonwoo’s very expensive Italian leather shoes.

 

Distantly, Wonwoo remembers his mother telling him that if he had nothing nice to say, he shouldn’t say it at all. In lieu of a nasty comment, he swallows roughly, and opts for rolling his eyes instead.

 

“What other options are there?” Wonwoo asks, a defeated sigh already working its way up to his lips as he eyes the now-clucking chickens, who have decided to unceremoniously plop themselves at the side of the coop.

 

“Well, there’s always these,” Mingyu suggests, pulling out a garish yellow pair of Wellington boots from behind a set of tools.

 

“Absolutely not,” Wonwoo says immediately, his voice coming out sharp and hostile. He thinks he can feel his eye twitching, for every second that he spends staring in disgust at those boots. They’d look horrible with his trousers.

 

“Why not? What’s wrong with them?” Mingyu responds, and Wonwoo’s heart squeezes traitorously when he realizes how hurt the other boy sounds. When he looks up, he’s met with Mingyu’s crestfallen, confused expression as the boots hang limply in his oversized hands. They’d just met, but Mingyu had been nothing but painfully genuine from the moment Wonwoo arrived. He’d welcomed Wonwoo into his home warmly, then all but ran to his garden to pick herbs and make him a fresh cup of mint tea while apologizing profusely for the lack of iced americanos. Overall, Wonwoo had been somewhat taken aback by the sheer force of nature that was Mingyu bending over backwards to host people he simply didn’t have to.

 

“I was just trying to help,” Mingyu admits sullenly, chucking the boots to the side. “But go on, keep chasing your chicken. See if I care when you fall and break your tailbone.”

 

“You will,” Wonwoo responds automatically, drawing himself to his full height to stare at Mingyu without a trace of amusement. “Then you’d have to deal with me getting airlifted out of here and probably paying part of my hospital fees because this happened on _your_ property-”

 

“Airlifted?” Mingyu interrupts, almost in a screech. “How far out do you think we are?”

 

Wonwoo’s mouth hangs open like he’s about to say something else equally snappy, but ultimately decides against it lest he makes Mingyu even more irate. “Like...3 hours from the main town?”

 

“We’re a 15 minute walk from the nearest grocery store,” Mingyu deadpans. “Where did you think the frozen pancakes in the fridge came from?”

 

“I thought you just froze pancake mix! Isn’t that what farm people do? Make everything on their own from scratch?”

 

“I don’t know who told you farm life was a Bear Grylls Man vs. Wild episode, but it really just...isn’t. Sometimes you have to eat frozen souffle pancakes that were definitely made in Japan because you know your own chickens can’t make anything nearly as fluffy.”

 

“See, I’ve never understood that. How would you even know whether or not your eggs are fluffy if they’re just yolks floating in some gunk?”

 

“Oh my god,” Mingyu sighs, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really are a city boy.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wonwoo frowns, knowing he’s getting weirdly defensive about this - but also that he doesn’t have the time to be mastering the art of making perfect pancakes or omelettes when he’s going to work on 2 hours of sleep.

 

“Forget it,” Mingyu decides, waving his hand dismissively. “Go inside, change your clothes, and then we’re gonna do a whole Naked Chef and teach you how to eat things that aren’t takeout.”

  


As they trample inside and Wonwoo makes a special effort to avoid the chickens milling about the coop, he wonders how in the world Mingyu gets enough of a TV signal to be watching essentially every variation of those lifestyle programmes on cable.  


End file.
